Harry's Unsuccessful Success
by Alex Lacey
Summary: Hermione's hormones rage and Ron can't figure out what is going on with her. Harry sees it all and decides to do something about it. Before he can do anything, though, fate intervenes.
1. In Which Hermione Is Hormonal

**Chapter One: In Which Hermione Has Ludicrous, Passionate Thoughts**

"No, I will not go out with you. Frankly, I can't believe you asked," I state with a reasonable amount of audacity.

"You can't just lead me on like that, you know," says Fred in protest. He really is desperate for a date, especially if he _does_ have to come to me as a last resort.

"Come on, Hermione, be sensitive to a poor guy's heart!"

"Fred, I don't think it's your heart that needs sensitivity."

"I can't believe you just said that!"

"Well, believe it, because I just did."

Fred huffs and puffs all the way down the hallway, acquiring enough momentum to slam his door properly. I do feel a little bad for him, but not enough to insinuate a date, especially one that is meant to steal the heart of Katie Bell.

"Hermione, have you seen my… umm… never mind," Ron rushes around, slightly distracted, trying to pack all the things that tend to spread out during the summer holidays.

"Hermione, can't you help me… forget it," Harry has become so much like Ron these years, that it makes me laugh out loud, sometimes.

Gingerly, I step into Ginny's room, watch her pack the remainder of her things, and whistle to myself.

"What in the world is that song you're whistling?" Ginny pokes her head out from stacks of books that I really need to ask Mrs. Weasley if she can shrink for me, just until I can unpack them at school.

"I don't know… the name of the band is funny. Foo foo fighters? I don't know, I heard it on the radio."

Ginny raises an eyebrow, but lets it go. It's funny how things that come from my old life, my summer life, my Muggle life, seem to go forgotten in this life, my witch's life. I used to think that the two worlds should come to peace, and that one day I would want to fuse these two opposing worlds into one. But as I've grown older, I wonder if that would be a good idea, or if, in fact, wizards and Muggles should be kept apart? These kinds of ideas are comfortable to me. They stretch in my imagination, reaching out and turning into a motion that soon turns into an act. I relish in these thought, my lofty goals. They seem so much easier to think of than that writhing, sneaky, delicious idea of boys.

Oh! Boys! Something marvelous, tangible, delectable, and rather mysterious has no right to come popping into ones head at the absolute worst moments! No one should have to think of what is under a wizard's robe when she is taking an exam, or eating her breakfast. Freedom of thought is a God- given right that has been taken from me! Nothing should be able to posses my mind such as crude thoughts that come from nowhere. Damn those raging hormone to hell.

"Hermione, I'm sorry to interrupt your murderous thoughts, but you're sitting on the dress robes I've been looking for," Ron waves a hand in front of my face, which apparently echoes my thoughts like a mirror. One of those random, crude thoughts pops into my head at precisely the wrong moment.

"Sorry, Ron," I murmur and shoot to the door, suppressing what will surely be an eruption of giggles. The image of sitting on Ron's lap instead of his dress robes flashes through my head, making me feel ridiculous and surprisingly warm at the same time. Oh, to be young and have ludicrous, passionate thoughts. I recite the alphabet backwards in a last ditch effort to stop _that_ train from leaving.

"What are you doing? Omega… Psi… Chi… What? Oi! Ron! She 'as officially gone insane!"

"Oh, shut up!" I say laughing, conjuring up an image of George leaning in for a… Oh God, this really is too much. "It's the Greek Alphabet."

"I thought that was something like 'Alpha… Beta… something.'"

"I was doing it backwards."

"Oh," he turns to me full of suspicion, "why in hell would you do something like that?"

"That is for me to know and you _not _to know!" I volley back tartly.

"Pff… well, then…" I watch him trot along down to the kitchen in hot pursuit of the suddenly strong scent of chicken.

The Weasleys are by far one of my favorite families. They are predictable, unique, loving, kind… what else could you want in a family that you spend most of your time with? It's really too bad that Harry and Ginny have hardly said a word to each other. It helps that there are at least three young, handsome males living here, not to mention the two that visit on holidays. Not that that's what matters, of course! No… no… not at all…. Sigh.

Well, tomorrow we go back to Hogwarts, and when there, boys will not be a problem of delightful inquest at all. I don't know how I feel about that.


	2. In Which Ron OopsieDaisies

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own any of these characters.

**Chapter Two: In Which Ron Says Something Disastrous**

I stand here, still thinking about Hermione's weird reaction to almost everything I did last night. It was one of those things where everything seems familiar, yet you can't quite put a finger on it. She acted like she did something tremendously funny, but I didn't see the joke _at all_!I ask her for my dress robes and she looks at me like I'm a cloud! Then I ask her if she can pass the potatoes and her face turns to the shade of beets! All evening long this happened. Now where saying goodbye to my family before we load up for Hogwarts and she still won't look me in the eye. Or Harry for that matter. Argh!

"Hermione, go check in as head girl and we'll be in one of the compartments in the back," I tell her, managing to receive a dazzled expression. She then flips her hair and down the hall she struts. Sometimes I want to grab that hair and strangle her with it! She is _so _insufferable… sometimes. Other times… well, they make me wish she were insufferable (because they happen at the worst moments.) Really, it's not fair that all girls have to do is stretch during charms class and all of a sudden you have a _big_ problem right on your lap. Why did Merlin make boys so obvious? It's really not fair.

"Look, here's an empty one. I don't know where Luna went, but I suspect she'll turn up sometime soon. Ginny is with her… umm… friend," Harry coughs and avoids any possible direct reference to Ginny's new boyfriend. They are really only together because Ginny wants someone to keep her busy, as she can't be with Harry, anyway. Poor Harry. If only he had known that the Order would find the Horcruxes and that it wouldn't take another whole year of death and destruction to rid the world of Vol-cough-mort (it's still painful to say). In fact, it had almost been easy, seeing that Regulus Black had the final Horcruxes hidden in his former home. With all his mutterings, that dingbat house elf gave it away accidentally. After that all that needed to be done was to destroy them. Even Harry thinks it was too easy, so we've kept vigilant and such, but Harry has defeated Voldemort thus far and all that so now it's time to enjoy the new school year. The recent death of Dumbledore is ever present in our minds, and Harry has been a little droll about it, but the Order has discovered that his portrait is alive and well and we can communicate with him, albeit sparingly. It's a bit of a damper on everything, but hopefully, with a couple girls on our arms, this year will be fantastic. Tee hee hee. Poor Hermione, stuck as head girl on the last year that we can have fun. Harry and I got to concoct something for her so she won't be left out. Boy, that'll be tricky right there.

I've noticed something about Hermione. She's awfully jumpy. A guy can't sit next to her without her practically having a hernia. She must have a germ phobia or something like that. Yeah, that's probably it. She must be afraid of getting dirty. I shake my head thinking of how hard her life must be. Than again, so is mine. I'm the one who has to live with a germaphobiac.

Harry prods me in the side, asking me what I want from the trolley. I tell him the usual but to leave out the Bertie Bots, because I've developed an odd allergy to them. So we eat and enjoy ourselves, and I'm just unwrapping a lollipop that gives you a higher IQ for about thirty seconds, when miss I'm-afraid-of-touching-anything walks through the door. She waves hello, and sits (gingerly, by the looks of it) next to me.

"So, Hermione, who is the Head Boy?"

"Justin Flinch-Fletchley, thank God. I think I would have died if it had been, dare I say it… Blaise Zabini."

"Justin is nice enough, I guess. He still doesn't trust me though," Harry sighs at his second year, remembering that terrible dueling club. I take a lick at my lollipop.

"His loss, Harry," she says, ever the supportive one. I watch her look from me to Harry and back to me, gesturing slightly and smiling awfully big. It hits me like a lamppost.

"Oh, yeah, Harry, Justin definitely doesn't know what he's missing. But we'll have a great year, won't we? Think of it! There's Parvati… and umm… there aren't many girls in our year, are there? At least in Gryffindor. There's Cho Chang! Just kidding, mate. Don't look at me like that. We'll meet a couple girls and go have fun during Hogsmeade weekends and all that," I guess the IQ effect wore off, because apparently I said something _really_ bad, judging by the daggers Hermione is glaring at me.

"Than I hope you have a wonderful time, while I rot in the common room, studying. Because God forbid that _I_ should join in and have _fun_! Or that _I_ am a girl, and seventh year Gryffindor! Ron, you are so insensitive."

"Hermione, touchy, touchy. I was only trying to get Harry out of this frump thing you've been jerking your head at. Please, don't take everything I say so personally!"

"How else should I take it? Am I supposed to sift through all the crap you give me and decide what's worth listening to and what's not? What do you take me for? A mind reader? Don't answer that," with that, she storms out of the room. Skirt flying, door slamming and everything.

"Poor Hermione. Sometimes I feel so bad for her."

"Why's that?" I ask Harry.

"She just doesn't get it," he says, and I simply nod, having no clue as to what he's going on about. I don't think he does, either, but boy does Hermione look good in that skirt.

Note: I know it's going a little slow, but hang in there.

Reviews welcome and all that.


	3. Harry, The Omnipotent One

**Chapter Three: In Which Ron and Hermione Cease To Be Funny**

"Merlin, that girl's hair looks like a rat's nest!" whispers a first year, giggling, oblivious to the fact that Hermione has pulled out her wand. She whispers something and all of a sudden, the first year is donning a new (an improved, by Hermione's standards) hair do.

Hermione had been doing really well with her "sustain all dirty and inappropriate thoughts" program, but Ron intervened and without warning Hermione was just too tempted. That lollipop had it in for her, and all she could see before her outburst was his tongue sliding over it, with the smallest gleam in his eye. Her mouth watered immediately and she nearly died with that overwhelming craving. All she wanted to do now was sit on his lap and go at it. She shakes her head as someone walks towards her.

"Something bothering you, Hermione?" Justin walks over to her, seeing her nose scrunched up and her eyes squeezing shut, he thinks she ate something bad.

"Thank you, no Justin, I'm fine. Sorry," she rushes on. The only real reason that these thoughts bother her so much is that they come in flashes and she wishes so much that they would happen. And she knows that no one really knows what she's thinking, but being the cautious one, she wants even her thoughts to be discreet. It really is frustrating being Hermione.

Having walked off enough steam, Hermione returns to the compartment, ready to apologize, when she finds Ron asleep with his face pressed up against the window and Harry gone. Her mind half –halts, but her feet do not and they carry her to Harry's seat across from Ron. A bombastic, erratic thought seizes her and she reaches out to graze Ron's brow. He moans and she jerks her hand away, but reaches out again to touch his cheek. Barely breathing, she leans in a bit more, sliding her hand down his face, wanting so much to just lean a bit more and kiss him. Even that is too much for Hermione and she can't do it. But she stays where she is, letting out a sigh of risk that has had it's success.

Without warning, there is a quiet thud on the compartment door and Harry opens it slightly. Before Hermione can move, his eyes have popped open and he hustles out of the way, mortified that he walked in on whatever she was doing.

Out in the hallway, Harry tries with much difficulty not to laugh. There has always been something between his two best friends, but he never suspected Hermione to be the one to act on it. Before, he deemed it cute that they had that love/ hate relationship, now it seems rather sweet, and he can just imagine them getting married and… no that really is too much. He must have been blind not to see it earlier, but now Harry realizes the error of his ways and what was once a laughing matter now seems more like a duty, and Harry takes his duties seriously. Despite all clichéd plots, he takes it upon himself to play cupid. Beginning tomorrow, of course.

"Sorry to intrude, dear friend of mine, but I need to change and I know that wouldn't bother you if it were Ron doing the changing, but I like my privacy, thank you," Hermione jumps out of the way as Harry opens the compartment door, looking completely horrified that he will wake Ron up.

"Harry, I didn't mean anything by it, honest. He had a spot on his nose, I swear!" Her claims are futile and although Harry lacks any Leglimens capabilities, this blatant lie is not that difficult to read and he simply smiles.

"Even if you're not lying, I'm still kicking you out." Hermione complies quickly and leaves.


	4. In Which They Almost

Chapter Four: In Which Harry Makes A Dismal Attempt

A week later and Harry has still failed to put his friends together. Hermione continues to wriggle every now and then, and Ron still cannot see the hilarity of it all. The three friends begin to feel the stress in all the schoolwork that will assault them as the year plunges on, and Hermione decides to take a mental day.

"You can't be serious," the shocked Ron looks at her through narrowed eyes.

"When am I not serious? Please, tell me," Hermione asks, extremely nervous and a little tense at the thought of skipping class. Normally she wouldn't do it but classes and homework are catching up to her faster than she had anticipated and slowly, very slowly, Hermione drowns in her own misery.

"Ron, if you feel so strongly about skipping class, than go report it for all I care."

"Hermione, you know I wouldn't do that to you, you're one of my best friends."

"My point exactly," she murmurs. Ron looks up hastily at the staircase coming down from the dormitories, and he sees Harry coming down in his usual haphazard self – lazily handsome and strangely calm. He smiles at his two friends sitting on couches, waiting for him. The fact that Hermione is not dressed for the day and she doesn't have her books doesn't even register with him until Ron points out what normally would be obvious.

"Hermione's not ready for class, Harry. Do you have anything to say about this?"

It takes a moment for Harry to catch up, but eventually he gets the drift.

"Hermione, why aren't you dressed yet?" He asks and in return receives a tight-lipped, rolling eyed look from Hermione.

"Because I'm not going to class. I'm staying here to finish my homework, thank you."

"What? Doesn't that seem a little pointless? I mean… skipping class to do more class work?"

"Actually, no, considering how far behind I'm getting, I thought I would have a quick catch up day, in fact, you're welcome to join me if you'd like."

"Ho no no no no, thank you," Harry sees that this would be far worse than going to Defense Against the Dark Arts, or double Care of Magical Creatures. Far worse. He'd actually rather go to potions.

"No, but thank you for offering, Hermione. Ron, however, could use some extra time for homework, couldn't you, Ron?"

"What?" Harry also sees that this may be the perfect opportunity for his two friends to spend some, ahem, _quality_ time together.

Ron loves the idea, immediately seeing the advantage of staying out of class all day with Hermione. She could berate him all she wanted about working, but if a teacher asked, all he would have to say was that he was with Hermione and trouble was bound to pass him over.

"Sure, Hermione, I'll stay with you."

Hermione's expression remains on Harry, but slowly turns towards Ron, a slightly tighter smile on her lips.

"Well, then. Get you're books and quills and such and we'll begin."

"We haven't even had breakfast ye!"

"Do I look stupid to you?"

"Well…no…but…"

Hermione flicks her wand and a plate of eggs, sausage, and a glass of milk appear in front of him.

"Thanks, Hermione."

"Don't mention it, please."

……………………………

I don't believe my luck. Some evil force has got it in for me, I think. Everything was planned out. I was going to get Harry and Ron off to class, with only a little bit of struggle, and then slip down to the prefects bathroom to take a long, hot, relaxing bath. Ron was actually daft enough to think that I would let him get off easy today! Now that he's with me, I can't very well leave him to take a bath, and to be honest, I don't want to work at all!

Everything is a disaster. Everything from his toes to his curly hair seep into all my essays, dripping all over my thoughts and words, leaving me with many, many rough drafts. I know that I can't possibly work all day, so I am just going to have to suck it up and tell him.

"Ron," I see his eyes rise from his paper he is pretending to write on. I know he expects me to say something about his work, or give him some important tip. "I can't work today. I'm leaving," I lay back in the chair I have been diligently working in, and gently stretch my muscles. I get up and tuck all my books tidily into my book bag, and wave it away. My feet carry me to the portrait hole. As desperate as I am to relax, I must force myself to leave Ron.

"Hermione, wait. I'm coming with you." This shocks me to no end, and I turn to him.

"What? Are you an idiot? You have the rest of the day to do whatever you please, and you chose to come with me?"

"What's wrong with that?" He gives me the most wide-eyed, innocent look, and I simply melt. I nearly take a step forward, and I almost wrap my arms around him. In my dreams I draw back, then lean in once more to lay my lips on his, sucking and pressing, asking and pleasing. Almost, but not quite.

"If you insist."

We go through the portrait hole and walk down the hall. Getting around the school undetected isn't so hard when you're best friend has loaned you a map of everyone and everything in it. It's simple to avoid the wandering teachers and students. Passageways make escape easier, and faster, opening doors to wild adventures that have yet to be discovered. Ron and I take one of these magically convenient journeys and wind up on the outer edge of the Quidditch field. I keep wondering exactly what it is that has made Ron come with me. I dim light appears in the back of my mind, but I quickly shut it out, refusing to believe the impossible.

……………………………….

_Pant, Pant._ That damn girl is walking… _pant_… too fast. My legs hurt, my ego hurts, my mind hurts, and on top of all that, I need to piss.

I have tried so hard to get her alone like this, and now I can't find those sweet, compelling, wonderful words that I rehearsed last night. They slip off my tongue so easily in the mirror, but for some reason when my own reflection isn't before me, my mouth has no inspiration. To speak, anyway.

So we're walking, and walking, and walking. I think we've made a decent time around the Quidditch field when all of a sudden Hermione veers to the right. She stops dead and unfortunately I don't see her in time and I ram right into her, knocking her on her bum. Of course I fall on top and everything is just a mess. She lies underneath me for a maximum of two seconds before she pushes me off of her. As she gets up she crouches there, mid rise, and looks at me with the most wonderful look in her eye. I freeze, having been just about to make some wise crack, and lift my head slightly from the ground. It's just too tempting and I can't stand the awkwardness. A moving picture plays in my head, of her leaning down and pushing me back to the ground with a slight growl in her throat. She accosts me with her lips and takes all, no prisoners. I clutch at her hair and pull her down, simultaneously slipping my other hand under her sweater.

In reality, I am the one who rises and accosts, fingering her cheek and nearly pulling me on top of her. But before I so much as sigh any sort of contentment, she leaps into the air.

She bolts.


	5. The First Romantic Interlude

The mysteries of love are never as mysterious as they appear. Yet, for all the things I know, all the books I've read, and all the things I've done, it is still a mystery to me as to why I left him, pitifully on the grass. He was just sort of, lying there. Now I'm hiding just beyond the Quidditch field, with my hands all dirty and my cheeks splotchy from simultaneously crying and running as fast as possible. I don't feel well. My mind doesn't feel well. My poor, trodden heart doesn't feel well.

I know I should go back, I could see what he wanted, and I wanted it so badly as well! Argh… how frustrating. I peak behind the stone wall of the castle and see him sitting with his legs crossed, fuming. I can't tell whether it is at me, or if he is angry with himself. Slowly, the bottoms of my well-worn shoes scrape the ground as they follow one another forward, one by one. I inch towards visibility and cry out.

"Ron!"

He turns so quickly I think I hear his back crack. This makes me smile, and I stand there, like an idiot, biting my lip. Urging myself to go onwards and tell him, well… I'll figure that out when I get there.

…………………………………….

My god. I should never have done that. I cannot believe I did that! Oh, the frustration! I had her so close, and then she was gone, like a fleeting breeze. Or a track star, judging by her speed. Am I really that revolting? I know I'm no Harry, but I've got the "fiery hair," and the "tall, leanness," going for me, right? Damn the opportunities that I completely slaughter.

It's right in the middle of this little rant that I hear my name. My back cracks I turn around so quickly and I'm surprised my head doesn't fall off to see who is standing there. Somehow, I know everything that is and everything that was in that moment that I nearly faint from the blood rushing to my… you know.

"Hermione?"

"Oh, Ron, I'm sorry. It's just that…"

"Say no more, Hermione. I completely understand. I was totally out of line and you have every right to be upset." I don't know where this half apology comes from, and I wonder if she'll believe it, even if I can't.

"No, you don't understand. You see, I have a confession." Her eyes get so damn big that they swallow me up whole.

"Ron, I didn't want to run. I just got scared is all. I, uh, don't really know how to explain…" And she trails off again, leaving a gaping silence that stretches across the void between us.

And I wait.

Nothing comes.

I feel awful making her stand there with her cheeks growing redder and redder and her legs crossed, her hands clasped on her stomach, and a waning smile on her lips. I feel myself rising uncontrollably, slowing coming up to a stand. Unbidden (as usual), my body glides to her, just a few feet away, crossing the void. I awkwardly nuzzle my nose against hers and then kiss her with an energy I didn't know I possessed. She tentatively places her hands on my back, pulling herself into my body as if battling between her passion and her internal inhibitions. I relish the touch, feeling her heat all the way from where her knees knock against mine to her breasts hugged against my own chest to our lips. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as that embarrassing extremity of mine rises of its own accord, Hermione's entire body stiffens the slightest bit and I try to pull back as best I can. Oh, God! I don't know what to do! I eventually take the cowards route and put space between us, breaking off that kiss.

Finally everything comes into focus. Hermione's eyes, which seemed so smart and predictable, look stilled and hopeful. It didn't even occur to me before this little, ahem, episode how attracted I am to her. She is completely my opposite. I guess that means we fit, in a way. It never occurred to me before, that this may be why we bicker like siblings. I supposed we've always, innately known that we work well together. Sometimes my philosophical strokes of brilliance shock me.


	6. And The Interlude Continues

Internally, I'm screaming.

"You fucking idiot, kiss me!"

Unfortunately, Ron pulls away just as I'm getting comfortable. Oh, god, what is wrong with him! He has a girl, affable and willing, right in front of him. I guess not every romantic venture can be like the romance novels I've started to pick up in my spare time. I suppose I'll just have to teach him, not that that's going to be easy because lord knows I am only going from what I've read.

My blood is running, and I am ready to be passionately kissed, dam it! I glare at him as soon as I open my eyes, but just as I am ready to grab him by the shirtfront and do it all over again, his eyebrows scrunch and he deliberately (I think… well… it's highly likely) takes my hand and my heart with it.

"Does this mean we can be 'a thing' now?"

"Well, of course," I reply. What else did he think this was leading to?

"I've always wanted to be 'a thing,' you know."

"Ronald, I had no idea."

"It is rather embarrassing, I feel a bit girly, of course."

"Of course."

I smile. He is too good, awkward, and utterly _boyish_ all at the same time. That may be the reason why we are so good together. We are so similar in so many ways. I suppose all the bickering was just foreplay. _This _is what makes a good relationship, in my opinion. If you are going to be sharing, hopefully, intimate evenings and secrets with someone, it might as well be your best friend, right?

…………………………….

She is bloody AMA-zing! I was _so _worried this was a one-time gig! Thank Merlin! I can't even wait to tell Harry!

Oh, no. I had forgotten about him.

"Hermione?"

"What?" she looks preoccupied.

"Are we going to tell Harry?"

"Oh, no."

"My thoughts exactly."

"If we tell him, he won't be angry, will he?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"This puts a damper on things," she frowns beautifully.

"I don't think we should tell him," I say finally.

"Why not? We might as well. He already knows… ahem… that I have a crush on you."

"You have a crush on me?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"Well, that's sweet Hermione. How does Harry know?"

"Never mind that, why shouldn't we tell him?"

"Well, considering how depressed he's been lately about Ginny, it doesn't seem right to, you know, be a 'thing' in front of him. It'd be like bragging, wouldn't it? No, all together, I think it'd be better if we kept on the down-low, if you know what I mean."

"No, what do you mean, Ronald?"

"Race me to the North Tower and I'll show you."

I sprint off in that general direction, praying that she follows. With a good-head start, I look back and see her grinning as she flies to catch up. As we reach the secret entrance to Hogwarts, I stop and turn, catching her soaring body in my arms, hugging her as close as I can possibly get her. At this moment, I am tremendously happy.


End file.
